


This Message Will Self-Destruct In...

by perlaret



Category: Selfie (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2854877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perlaret/pseuds/perlaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Snapchat is totes for sending nudes, Henry! Like, of course they tell you when someone saves pics." This is not the night Henry Higgs had planned for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Message Will Self-Destruct In...

It was a Friday night, which for Henry Higgs had once meant a peaceful, quiet evening with naught but a book, or even perhaps a documentary, free of interruption.

These days, he could expect nothing of the sort.

It was a little after 11:30 pm, and Henry had just finished putting away the last of the dishes from dinner when his phone buzzed.

"And here we go."

Henry finished drying his hands, put the towel on its hook, and picked up the phone. He input his passcode and there it was. The little red notification marker over the little yellow square with the ghost that could only mean one thing.

Eliza Dooley's (ill-advised and definitely drunken) weekend adventures had begun.

With a few swipes of his screen, Henry's suspicions were proven correct: the program took over the entirety of his screen and there was a photo of Eliza herself, smirking at the camera, in some dark venue with lighting that made everything look purple and a half-empty margarita glass in hand. A strip of text was visible near the bottom of the image, the eloquent caption reading: TIME 2 PARTAY W MY BITCHES XOXO

Henry only had time to sigh before the countdown at the top of the image came to an end and the picture vanished, to god knew where in the cybersphere. (Eliza had assured him the whole point of Snapchat was that the images were permanently deleted once their time had come to an end, but she'd also one proclaimed that "The internet is forever, Henry!" so he felt perfectly reasonable in maintaining his doubts.)

Not that it would be the last message of the night. In fact, his phone buzzed again and there was another picture, again of Eliza in the same place, only this time her head was thrown back and she was apparently draining the glass. Or so the caption "GONNA GET CRUNK 2NITE" implied.

"Eliza, that's not even a real word," Henry informed her latest picture before it too disappeared. "And also it is far too early for this level of insobriety."

He reached for the glass of water he'd poured himself earlier and held up his own phone to capture the very serious face he was making. He took the picture. And, after some brief and frustrating fiddling, managed to type a message of his own: "Please remain adequately hydrated."

It took mere moments to receive a reply.

A text arrived first from the program, reading, "OMG HENRY u can actually use snapchat? sound the ALARM!!" Another picture arrived shortly thereafter, this one of Eliza with a hand clapped over her cheek in an exaggerated imitation of shock. Though, he allowed, some of that could be truly genuine. For all that Henry had (reluctantly, thank you, and in a moment of supreme foolishness) let her take charge of his phone and load the programs that would allow him to view all of her social media exploits ("So you can tell me how to improve and, like, be honest with me if I'm accidentally too skanky."), he had attempted to limit his exposure. Or at least, to create the appearance that he was doing so. Ahem.

He put his thumbs to the keyboard.

"It seems to be a fairly intuitive set-up, so yes," he typed. "And I do hope you will take my advice to heart."

It took a whole minute and a half to receive her next response, during which Henry had time to first grow antsy that she wasn't going to reply at all, and then to feel inordinately foolish that he was becoming one of those people. Someone who expected immediate gratification from a form of electronic communication that was completely predicated on not needing to be answered as soon as it was received. It was a travesty.

When her message did finally arrive, it came with another picture, this of five shot glasses lined up all in a row on a bar counter that looked like it was in desperate need of a wipe-down. It was followed by another snap text.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| No worries! Will drink lots!

"You know that's not what I meant," he replied, and narrowing his eyes for the camera to emphasize his point.

All that garnered was a "LOL!" He sallied back with an extraordinarily eloquent ":|" because it seemed to suffice to say what words could not.

And then, for a while, his phone lay silent.

Henry waited for a few minutes -- fewer than five, of course, because he was still in possession of his self-respect -- before finally shrugging it off. However little he understood Eliza's nighttime exploits, or her motivations for them, he did know she was an old hand at these sorts of things, and he had no exceptional reason to be concerned. And if she didn't take his advice about drinking water, then, well. On her own hangover be it.

He'd changed into his PJs and had just settled atop his covers with his book in hand when Henry's phone went off again. This time, it was a video.

Eliza was dancing, neon lights flashing and people milling around her as she moved, her hair bouncing to the beat. She'd clearly had to yell to be heard over the music, which thrummed tinnily through his speakers, and he had to rush to the buttons on the side of his phone to turn down the volume. "HEY HENRY! THIS IS FUN 101 AND YOU'RE TOTES FLUNKING, JUST FYI." She flashed the camera that grin that she got whenever she was getting on his case for something frivolous – and then the screen once again went dark.

"How on earth do you do videos on this thing?" Henry muttered and the journey to smart phone app proficiency briefly continued.

Several attempts later, one involving an accidentally sent one-second video that captured nothing but the red blur of his finger over the lens (and a "???" response), Henry managed to put his serious face back on and clutched his book to his chest with the mien of a most dignified scholar. "I never enrolled in that class," he deadpanned, hit send, and then proceeded to feel very proud of himself.

He received a text response almost immediately.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| sry can't hear over music!  
| Nice headbord tho. Sleep good grandpa!

Sighing, Henry resorted to typing.

 **ME**  
| I said: I never enrolled in the class which you were accusing me of flunking.  
| Also, definitely not a grandpa. Generation X, not a Boomer, remember?

And then apparently Eliza got too busy to reply, and Henry definitely wasn't going to sulk about that. He also definitely was not planning to stay up an hour later than originally planned in order to put a lie to that completely unwarranted accusation. Besides, his book was interesting.

"Hmph, grandpa? I'm not even that much older than her," he muttered, flipping his book open to the marked page. Just by a couple of years. Maybe a decade, or so. At most!

God, thinking about it like that only made him feel older.

...Better not to think about it. And read his book.

Henry started to get drowsy after an hour or so doing just that, the words on the page starting to all run together and turning into a language he barely understood. Perhaps it was better to admit defeat -- no one had to know when precisely he went to bed but him after all -- but then his phone buzzed once more. He reached for the cell automatically and nearly dropped it again when he opened Eliza's latest snapchat, his thumb slipping off the screen.

Later, he would fiercely deny ever reopening it in the last few seconds. As it was, his interest was purely scientific, as he didn't actually believe his eyes, because there was no way Eliza Dooley would ever send him a... provocative photograph.

Yet, five seconds of blinking in bafflement seemed to prove that she had done just that.

For all that it was provocative, it wasn't lewd, at least. She'd sent him a picture taken in what looked like the club's bathroom mirror, leaning forward so the image had a clear view down the front of her dress, all lacy bra and pale skin. Her eyes were smoky and dark and she was biting her lip in the kind of pouty expression he really should have considered overwrought rather than appealing, but, well. That wasn't remotely the reaction he was mustering tonight. And just to add the cherry on top of the weirdness cake, she'd added a caption, saying, "come n get it tiger..."

"Um," Henry said.

"Um..." Henry typed, and swallowed hard.

So much for feeling tired.

Fortunately (was it fortunate? he was no longer sure) she replied fairly quickly.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| lol omg Henry sorry that wasn't for u...

Henry let out a breath he hadn't exactly been holding on purpose and deliberately ignored the dropping feeling in his stomach. He'd already guessed that, hadn't he?

 **ME**  
| You should be more attentive to who you're sending those images to.  
| What if you'd sent them to someone like Saperstein?  
| Or worse, Larry?

It was perhaps a little too easy to imagine the disgusted face that image would conjure. And he had imagined it dead on too, because Eliza wasted no time in sending him a selfie of exactly the expression he'd pictured.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| Eww why???  
| Seriously tho, the old Sap only uses snapchat with his wife  
| And Larry's wife checks his phone to make sure he doesn't have it  
| Besides like I have a strict no pervs policy for snapchatting duh

 **ME**  
| Well I'm relieved to hear you've done your homework.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| lol duh  
| No but really I'm super trying to avoid taking a cab home because Jessica took her car with her on her hookup.  
| He was this super buff hottie but had these bleached tips, like aren't we in the 21st century now?  
| And anyway tl;dr Freddy's not answering..........  
| Help a girl out???

Henry paused, feeling suddenly very self-conscious of his entire life and how thoroughly oblivious Eliza seemed to be of the way the whole sequence of events had played out for him. And then he felt embarrassed, because sure, she'd sent him a picture emphasizing her, ahem, more womanly attributes, but it'd been a drunken mistake, and now she was asking him for a safe ride home. As a friend. Which meant that he was the one who desperately needed a reality check.

His phone went off again. Henry read Eliza's message and rolled first his eyes, and then himself off of the bed.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| You know nvm actually, I know it's late for you and I could stand to party some more

 **ME**  
| Don't be so impatient. I was getting my things.  
| Where are you?

**THEDOOLIO**  
| Omg awesome my hero!!! I'll text you the address. :)

Henry sent her an "ok" and proceeded to head for his closet for a clean pair of jeans. And maybe a clean shirt. She'd probably gone somewhere nice and wouldn't want to be picked up by someone in pajama bottoms. Not that he was concerned about appearances in the L.A. nightlife or anything.

But Eliza probably was, so.

He was just grabbing his keys and stepping out the door when he got another alert from his phone. Henry paused in the midst of locking up his home to open the latest picture he'd been sent, and saw that she'd probably had to enlist the help of a fellow club-goer for this one. Eliza was smiling brightly, highlighted in neon blue lights and hands framed in the shape of a heart above the message, "ur the best!"

Henry bit back a smile, and, impulsively, he screencapped it. It was a good picture of her, not the kind that should be lost to the wilds of the internet.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| OMG Henry I didn't know you actually knew how to screencap on your phone  
| I'm supes impressed

Henry read the messages as he slid into his car and blanched. Then he felt his face burn.

 **ME**  
| Wait, how did you know I saved that?

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| Aww Henry you're so qt  
| Snapchat is totes for sending nudes, Henry! Like, of course they tell you when someone saves pics.  
| I'm pretty hot tho so I don't blame you

Henry groaned and started the car, buckling in.

 **ME**  
| It was a nice picture. I thought you might want it later.

 **THEDOOLIO**  
| Aww  
| You think I'm goooooorgeous  
| You wanna snaaaaaap me

 **ME**  
| Calm down, Sandra Bullock.  
| Driving now. Safely. See you soon.

He wouldn't see her last message to him for the night until much later, after he'd picked her up and dropped her back off in the safety of her own apartment and experienced all the Eliza shenanigans in-between. It was short, but it made his breath catch a little nevertheless.

**THEDOOLIO**  
| For reals tho Henry: <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
